


Flip the Tables

by Aythli



Category: Tsubasa: Reservoir Chronicle
Genre: Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Gamers, KuroFai Olympics, KuroFai Olympics 2015, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-29
Updated: 2015-08-29
Packaged: 2018-04-17 20:54:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4681151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aythli/pseuds/Aythli
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fai never expected to find himself playing a café-themed, rom-com game  as part of his job. He never expected to find a sword-wielding character  in that type of game either, but this was apparently a day for  surprises.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flip the Tables

**Author's Note:**

> A last-minute sub for the café theme, Team Sci-Fi, Kurofai Olympics 2015. I had a great deal of fun writing it, and massive thanks to Cloverfield for beta-ing!

Had a monkey with a baseball bat simply been allowed to bash away on a keyboard, it might have been able to create more elegant code than this. Fai ran his hand back through his hair and wondered, not for the first time, why the main programmers thought they could send stuff like this to the Fix-IT group and still feel like they could reasonably claim that they had no idea why the game code wasn’t working.

This error was particularly bad. In fact, it was probably the worst one he’d seen all week. All the walls appeared to violently and suddenly collapse in on the player – a bit more disconcerting in a 3D, 360 degree, completely immersive game environment than it would have been in the days of gaming consoles. Even though the actual player was unharmed, that much simulated concrete, steel, and glass immediately reduced their life bar to zero, and no one wanted to wind up in the graveyard because of a glitch in the programming.

“That looks awful.”

Fai felt Yukito lean over his shoulder but couldn’t tear his eyes away from the train wreck of code in front of him. He’d be better off just deleting the entire portion and rewriting from scratch once he sorted out what they’d originally intended this to do. If he _could_ sort out what they’d originally intended it to do from the wreckage on screen.

His utter despair must have been showing on his face though, because Yukito said, “I have a distraction, if you’d like."

“Oh?” Fai tried to keep the hopefulness out of his voice.

Yukito passed over a thin rod the length of his forearm. The rolled circuitry inside stored the game code, the technology having taken the place of the outmoded USB and DVD. The rods may have been larger, but the storage capacity was orders of magnitude greater. “The programmers claim that there’s a glitch at about two hours and forty-five minutes, but I can’t seem to see any issues in the code. I was just about to take it to the testing rooms. I thought that maybe I could see the problem from the inside, but it looks like you need the break more than I do.”

Fai’s eyes narrowed. He’d known Yukito long enough to know that the innocent exterior didn’t exactly match the surprisingly devilish interior. “What’s the catch?”

“The first chapter break is three hours into the game.”

Which meant that Fai would have to sit through the whole two hours and forty-five minutes before it to reach the glitch and there was no way around it. At least it meant that he could put off the other code that much longer.

Yukito smiled sweetly. “I figured you wouldn’t mind too much.”

 

* * *

 

Red lights glowing like lanterns above the doors just outside his office indicated that all the test platforms were already occupied. Fai sighed and rested the game rod on his shoulder. He’d have to go down and see if one of the demo platforms was available.

The Fix-IT group took up a small corner office at the back of a mid-level floor of the building. Fai sauntered down the narrow hall that spilled out into the wide stairs that led down into the main atrium. A multitude of voices rose up the stairs – people milling around Piffle Princess’ main shop. The clatter of game cases being picked up, read, discussed, and bartered over was a constant background in the building. Even though most of the groups thought that Fix-IT’s location was a subtle snub at their importance to the company, Fai and Yukito had been grateful for it. It placed them right by the test platforms and was blissfully silent compared to most of the other offices.

Fai clattered down the stairs into the din. Normally, he wouldn’t bother to use the demo platforms – the ones near the store where customers could try out games – but the alternative was working on the other ham-handed game code disaster, so he’d brave the crowds. He slipped past a group of people all discussing the merits of various games in strident voices and ducked into the hall that filled the space under the stairs. The demo platforms back here were older, and there were enough platforms open at the front that most people didn’t even notice these ones.

Unsurprisingly, the lights above all of the doors were green, indicating that the rooms were open, but Fai strode to the very last one anyway. If any of the functionaries saw him taking any but the last platform, no matter how many were available, he’d get an earful.

The wheel on the front of the door spun obligingly at his touch and the door hissed open. Fai stepped inside and waited for the door to close behind him. The ratcheting noise of the bolts slamming home was louder than it would have been in one of the newer platforms, but Fai loved the sound. He’d grown up with it – most of the coders here had – because he’d reveled in the opportunity to learn and practice skills that he would have been hard-pressed to find in the real world. The silent, modern platforms felt creepy and sterile.

After the clunk of the bolts, the whole room filled with the whine of electricity. The connection of the door to the surrounding walls allowed electricity and data to flow in a continuous loop, allowing for a seamless, 360 projection. Fai crossed the room slowly, the softly padded floor under his feet giving a little bit with each step. He turned the game rod over in his hands as he went. A lime-green plastic cap covered the connector, and a barcode that allowed the game to be internally tracked through its development was etched into the side. The barcode meant next to nothing to him, and he realized that he had no idea what he was about to get himself into. He grinned. He hoped it was something that would involve fighting. It had been far too long since he’d had a chance to test his mettle.

With the game rod in place, the projectors took over and the walls shimmered. Fai turned on the spot, eager to see what would materialize. The walls expanded backwards in a dizzying rush, gained wallpaper and pretty floral watercolor paintings. Booths and tables appeared out of the floor – Fai almost wound up sitting on one of the tables, but dodged it at the last moment. The final touches on the game would add an opening to avoid such issues, but it was still in a draft state, so some glitches were to be expected. Behind the tables, a long bar that topped a display case full of elegantly decorated, bite-sized desserts sprang into being followed by an oven, coffee pots, and various assorted culinary paraphernalia.

A hand brushed against his elbow, and a pretty young woman stepped into his line of sight. “Welcome!” she said brightly. “If you’d like to follow me, I can show you to your seat.”

Fai groaned and threw himself down on the floor, ignoring the waitress’ confusion as he slumped at her feet.

“Sir?” She leaned over him, clutching a menu to her generous bosom. “Sir, you may find the booth more comfortable.”

“I beg to differ. This floor is exceptionally comfortable.”

“Can...” She faltered, her smiling face flickering; the programming was adaptive, but it still struggled to deal with this situation. “Can I get you anything to drink?”

“Nope.”

“But you came into the café. You must desire something.”

“I wanted to make use of your excellent floor.” Fai attempted to make a grandiose gesture, but he supposed it fell flat given his awkward position. He did not know what attraction games like this held. He was clearly supposed to engage with the waitress, and he’d be willing to bet that asking her out and getting a good response was the endgame. He shook his head. To each their own, but for him, this was going to be an excruciating three hours.

He threw one leg over the other, stretched his arms over his head, and drummed his toes against the floor, ignoring the waitress who hovered uncertainly around him. The floor was significantly less forgiving than it had been when he’d walked in - the servos under the floor panels had stiffened up to approximate the feel of wood – and he squirmed around, trying to find a comfortable position. He craned his head to see the booths, but they were only intended for two people and the benches were far too small for him to lie down on.

“If-if you need anything, sir...”

"I will holler!" Fai waved her off. Or at least, he waved off what he could see of her. Dark skirts and white ruffles hesitated again and then slowly turned away to head towards the back of the café, swirling around stockinged legs and dainty black shoes. He lifted his head off the floor, feeling like he should apologize. Her programming wasn't exactly designed to handle someone like him, and she really did seem to be doing a good job adapting to it.

Oddly enough, there weren't any other waitresses in the café, or any other customers for that matter. He turned his head to look out the windows at the simulated scene beyond. Ice frosted across the glass, and driving snow filtered in front of the warmly glowing street lamps. Not a bad set-up for a romantic encounter, if a bit cliche.

A virtual eternity passed in silence save for Fai's drumming and the sound of the waitress bustling uncertainly around the shop. Then a soft ding sounded from behind the counter and was followed by some rustling and then a loud cry of pain and a clatter of metal on the floor. Fai scrambled to his feet and vaulted the counter.

The waitress had crumpled to her knees, hands wrapped in the white fabric of her apron and clasped to her chest. A metal cookie sheet lay haphazardly beside her and the floor was littered with what looked to be scone detritus.

Even from where he was standing, Fai could see that her fingers were an angry red.

She looked up, tears welling in the corners of her eyes. "The holder slipped."

Fai crouched beside her, "Ohh, that looks quite painful. Up you come." He slid his hands under her arms and hefted her to her feet. The small sink was in reach, and the water came out blissfully cold. He spared a brief thought for the fact that he was providing medical care for something that boiled down to a bunch of zeros and ones and shrugged it off. He realized belatedly that this reaction was probably exactly what the program intended - after two hours plus of failed interaction, it was trying to force him into making a move - and offered a bright grin in response to her adoring gaze. "The scones are ruined. Should we make some more?" He popped open the door to the cupboard only to discover that there were no supplies in there. Shoddy programming.

The little bell above the café's door tingled. Given the storyline building, Fai wouldn't have expected another character and, when he turned and caught sight of the man looking through the doorway, he certainly wouldn't have expected someone like that.

Tall - taller than Fai - dark and powerfully broad, the man had piercing red eyes that swept the room in cutting assessment before eventually landing on Fai and the waitress. The scowl deepened; he stepped fully through the door, revealing that he had an unsheathed sword resting against one shoulder, its bright edge incongruous against the dark leather of his jacket.

He looked so out of place framed by the lace curtains that hung in the front windows that Fai couldn't quite stifle a snicker. What kind of a game was this?

The glower the man turned on Fai was truly fearsome, and Fai heard the girl yelp and dive behind him. He suspected that he was supposed to defend her from this ruffian and then sweep her off her feet with his resulting heroism. Too bad he found the 'ruffian' a far more interesting specimen.

Then again, he wasn't playing this game to win, just to iron out its code, and he still had time to kill. He vaguely wondered how the programming would handle him going off book but decided he didn't really care. Anything to break the tedium. Fai lounged back against the edge of the counter, looked up at the handsomely sullen man still standing just inside the doorway, and flashed his most inviting smile. "Can I get you _anything_?" Because it was a game, he figured there was no harm in heaping innuendo into the last word.

Everything seemed to stop. Only the quiet sniffles from behind him convinced Fai that the game hadn't completely frozen. So they hadn't built much flexibility into it after all. Fai clucked his tongue reproachfully and made to step around the counter, noticing as he did that the internal consistency wasn't much better - the man's clothes were snow-free and dry despite the fact that he'd clearly come in from the cold outside.

Honestly, Piffle Princess hired the best because they didn't want to have to worry about little things like that. What was happening to the programming department?

Several things happened at once, then. The oven timer dinged again - they'd forgotten to turn it off - the sudden sound in the tense silence seemed to startle a scream out of the waitress, and Fai caught his foot on the mop leaning against the counter.

In retrospect, he probably shouldn't have sprung forward to catch it. The movement was inherently threatening, and with everyone's nerves on edge, he wasn't surprised to see the swordsman react to it. He barely got the mop handle up between himself and the sweeping downstroke and managed to avoid getting sliced in half. The sword bit into the wooden handle of the mop as though it were butter. Had the swordsman not pulled back at the last second, perhaps realizing his mistake, both the mop and Fai would have been in two pieces.

The reaction and subsequent control were impressive. Fai had spent a good portion of his formative years sparring in some of the more realistic fighting games of the time. If he hadn’t missed his mark, Fai would bet that this character was a top-of-the-line fighter, easily tournament- or boss-grade, and certainly not the kind of antagonist you’d expect to find in a café-based rom-sim.

Who had _written_ this game?

He’d have to look into it later. For now, he shoved the mop into the air, ducked under the swordsman’s arm, and paused for a second comfortably inside his guard and with his nose scarce inches from his opponent’s nose - well, his opponent’s chin, at any rate. “Who are you?”

The swordsman stumbled back, surprise written all over his face along with more than a mere flicker of interest. “Kurogane.” Even his voice sounded dangerous.

Fai dropped the mop, dove sideways into a roll, and came up on the other side of one of the small tables. His foot just barely cleared the edge of an elegant white tablecloth. He braced against the nearest chair and hooked his foot under the edge of the table, flipping it towards Kurogane, sending roses, vase, and water to the floor.

The table made an impressive noise when it hit the floor, water splattering and roses scattering, but Kurogane did little more than glance at it. He planted his foot on the handle of the mop, pulled his sword free, and focused on where Fai was leaning nonchalantly against the upright of the booth. “This is new.”

Fai shrugged. “We don’t have to fight.” He doubted the program would take him up on the offer. Probably couldn’t, depending on how it was coded. Perhaps the goal was to best Kurogane verbally, since most players wouldn’t stand a chance against him without a weapon. Fai had never been one to play into the obvious roles for a game, however.  
He picked up one of the vases thoughtfully and chucked it at the wall just to the side of Kurogane’s head. “Your choice.”

Kurogane grinned wickedly and brushed a couple of drops of water off his cheek, scattering them with a careless flick of his fingers. “Easy choice.” He was over the table in one easy leap. His sword whistled, narrowly missing Fai’s cheek – he was clearly taking this seriously.

Fai fell back into the booth and rolled under the table, taking the tablecloth with him as he fell. A quick flip threaded the tablecloth around Kurogane’s knees. Fai braced his foot against the table leg and yanked hard enough to put Kurogane off balance, making him stagger. It would be too hard to get out from under the table if he pulled Kurogane all the way to the floor. He slid past Kurogane’s knees while Kurogane was still recovering, vaulted clear over one of the still-standing tables, and made it to the door before Kurogane reached him.

A lonely umbrella sat abandoned in the stand by the door – put there, perhaps, so he could escort the waitress home through the snow. He caught it up as he slid past, spinning to catch Kurogane’s strike across the basket of the umbrella.

“You’re not bad.”

“I was going to say the same thing.” Fai thumbed the switch on the handle and enjoyed the look of surprised annoyance as one of the ribs of the umbrella whipped past Kurogane’s face. With Kurogane’s weight off the umbrella – opening it had displaced the sword - Fai danced backwards. A couple of quick kicks tossed two chairs in between himself and Kurogane. The fighting tactic was significantly more defensive than offensive, but his umbrella wasn’t exactly on par with Kurogane’s sword.

Fai slowed down ever so slightly after kicking the chairs over. He shouldn’t have; he knew better, but it had been a long time since he’d been in a real fight, and the temptation to relax in the wake of a brief moment of safety got the better of him.

And Kurogane was suddenly _there_ , in his space, nose-to-nose and so close that Fai could see the flecks of burgundy the freckled the outer ring of his irises. His coding had to be incredible to have that level of detail. The man had hurdled both chairs from what had almost been a standstill. He didn’t seem surprised by Fai’s ability to block the blow with the umbrella but put his momentum and his weight behind the sword.

Off balance and caught by surprise, Fai bit back an involuntary curse and stumbled backwards. He’d forgotten that some of the tables were still standing right up until the point where the edge of one caught the back of his thighs and sent him toppling. He sprawled backwards, throwing a leg around Kurogane’s waist to take him down as well. If he was going to be off balance and at a disadvantage, he was going to put his opponent in the same situation.

The point of the sword bit into the table by his ear. He shoved hard with the umbrella, and managed to trap the sword above his head and between the umbrella and the table. It wasn’t exactly an easy angle, but he tightened his grip on the umbrella and did his best to hold it there.

Kurogane clambered onto the table to get better leverage. The whole table creaked under their combined weight, but he didn’t seem to notice.

What did get both his and Fai’s attention was their sudden proximity. With the umbrella over his head and with both of them having a death grip on their respective weapons, Fai had managed to pull them flush. He tucked his chin in to put a little bit more space in between himself and Kurogane. The motion helped him bring Kurogane’s face into better focus but did little to shift the knee that was pinned between his. Muscles flexed along the length of his body in the most distracting way, heat radiating through his clothes and prickling his awareness of just how close they were to each other.

“Impressive.” Kurogane’s voice was low and pleased, the tone better suited to a bedroom than a brawl. The rumble threading through the words was almost as entirely distracting as his muscles.

Most people had a policy against having sex with programs. Fai subscribed to that policy as well as the policy that having sex with programs in a demo platform at work was likely to get him fired, and he had never before had trouble sticking to it. Luckily, the game didn’t give him the chance to test his resolve against his long-neglected libido.

Everything vanished. Tables, curtains, the lace-edged tablecloths, flowers, umbrella, everything. Fai sprawled onto the slightly squishy floor of the game platform, rolling as he landed out of sheer habit. He rose slowly to his feet, raising his eyebrows at the complete lack of any projections. He’d never seen a game completely shut down before. He pursed his lips and blew out a breath of air. "Hyuuuuuu, that is quite a glitch." He turned on the spot, wondering if the problem was in the platform and not in the game, only to find Kurogane standing directly behind him. He froze. "You're... not part of the game?"

Kurogane blinked at him slowly, sheathing what was apparently _a real sword_. "I was just about to ask you the same thing."

Neither of them mentioned the patent ridiculousness that either of them, dressed the way they were, could be part of that café.

“Not a program,” Fai said, eyebrows rising in incredulity. “So you just decided to just barge into someone else’s game?” That explained the lack of snow on Kurogane's clothes when he'd arrived.

Kurogane shrugged. “It was 10 o’clock.”

“And?”

“I always use this platform at 10 o’clock.”

“The light was on!” Loading the game rod automatically turned the green light over the door to red, marking it as occupied; it was incredibly rude to just barge in on someone else’s play-time.

Kurogane glowered. “It always is. Tomoyo has me test the new fighting games, and they’re loaded before I get here.”

Fai stared. “You thought this was a new _fighting_ game?”

“ _You_ thought I was part of a café storyline.” Kurogane countered.

“Fair enough. You made it a much more palatable game, though.” Fai grinned suddenly, his eyes flashing. “I’ve never fought among lace doilies before.”

Kurogane snorted.

“The only downside, however,” Fai tapped his finger against his lip, “is that I didn’t get a chance to see the glitch actually happen. That’s two hours and change wasted. Don’t get me wrong, the distraction wasn’t unpleasant, but I do believe you owe me, Kuro-myu.”

“It’s Kurogane!”

Fai didn’t give any indication that he’d heard Kurogane’s indignant protest. “I hear Clover, that new bar on the corner, is quite good. You could buy me a drink.”

The red eyes narrowed in irritation mixed with something else, something hotter, something hot enough to give Fai goosebumps. “I remember you offering to get me _anything_.”

At the time, Fai _had_ thought Kurogane was a program and had been far more forward than he ever would have been with an actual person, rather than an exquisite example of game coding. He supposed he should be slightly more embarrassed by it, but he’d also been pinned to a table by said person, and he hadn’t exactly kept his interest under wraps. To be fair though, neither had Kurogane, and he had a feeling that Kurogane was trying to embarrass him because of that.

Two could play at that game. Fai leaned in and lowered his gaze, letting everything he was feeling bleed through the huskiness in his voice. “Maybe after drinks.”

“Excuse me.” The words were uttered with a little cough of apology, startling them both. The young woman, the aforementioned Tomoyo and president of the company, stood in the doorway holding a game rod in one hand and a clipboard in the other. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but it seems there’s been a mistake.

“Yeah, we figured that out.” Kurogane grumbled at her, taking a half-step away from Fai.

“I have the program I need you to test, Kurogane.” She gestured with the game rod. “Again, I’m sorry to interrupt, but it’s quite crucial that we conduct the final testing as soon as possible.”

Fai smiled and gave a slight bow, face flushing. “Of course, President. I wouldn’t want to hold up progress.”

“Thank you for letting me borrow him.” Tomoyo smiled sunnily, inclining her head as she put a hand against Kurogane’s back to push him out of the room. “Perhaps you can continue flirting with each other later.”

The squawk of protest would have made Fai laugh if he hadn’t been frozen in embarrassment. He didn’t mind batting his eyelashes at Kurogane and trading innuendos with him, but having the company president cheering them on was a bit more than he could take. He beat a quick retreat back to his office – even the horrid code he’d passed on this morning was a welcome distraction, now, but he still walked out at closing time – rare – and crossed the street to Clover instead of heading home – rarer.

Fai felt a little idiotic sitting hopefully by himself on a stool at the bar, but it wasn’t long before the stool beside him scraped across the floor, and he turned to find Kurogane settling in beside him. He wasn’t entirely surprised, and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t pleased. He leaned in, letting some of how pleased he was show on his face. “I hope you didn’t bring your sword. _This_ waitress doesn’t look like the type to tolerate fighting.”

Kurogane chuckled, and the sound was low and warm. “No promises.”

They didn’t fight in the bar. Not that night, at least. The night they did, it was on a dare to see who could find the most useful weapon. Fai won by throwing drink umbrellas with incredible accuracy and force. It was impressive, but it couldn't compare with the following night when they shoved some of the tables around and had a rematch of the café fight in one of the bar's side rooms. Kurogane momentarily blinded Fai with a drink thrown in his face before pinning him to the table.His shirt had been ruined - real clothes didn’t come clean as easily as those that only existed as code - and they’d gotten thrown out of the bar for both drink-throwing and borderline inappropriate behavior, but Fai hadn’t minded in the end. Once they left, Kurogane invited him back to his place under the pretense of getting him a clean shirt, and _that_ was a perfectly acceptable apology and led, unsurprisingly, to a significantly better set of distracting activities.


End file.
